


With Hands Stained Red

by Fanficter123



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficter123/pseuds/Fanficter123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You killed him, didn't you?” Dick shook his head, but couldn't find the words to proclaim his innocence.  Tim was dead.  His little brother was dead, and it was his fault.  He'd killed Tim Drake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to Shelly and Grace for dealing with me ranting about this fic, talking me through the plot, beta reading, and basically being co-authors lets be honest all of the credit goes to them.
> 
> I solemnly swear to update this in a timely manner.

Guilt coiled in Dick's stomach like a cobra ready to strike. The poison of its fangs had already seeped into his blood, leaving him nauseous and pale. He stared at his hands, expecting to see them coated with blood, but they were not.

It didn't stop him from feeling dirty.

“Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Grayson?” Ray McKinnley, the hot-headed deputy from the east side of town, glared down the bridge of his nose at Dick. In all the time Dick had worked for the Bludhaven Police Department he couldn't recall ever seeing McKinnley smile, unless it was at some demeaning joke aimed at “Goody Two-shoes” Grayson. He wasn't smiling now either, and Dick didn't have to look up from his hands to know that.

He balled his hands into fists and watched the way the metal handcuffs fought against the tension in his wrists. If he wanted to, really wanted to, he could have these cuffs off in less than five seconds. Right now, though, he wore them like a shackle to his sins. The first of many punishments to come.

“I said,” McKinnley stressed, sliding a manila envelope with pictures paper-clipped to the upper right corner across the table, “Do you understand what I'm saying?” It was a common interrogation technique, and Dick had used it once or twice in this very same room. He suddenly understood why it was so effective. He looked at the pictures and gagged on a bubble of emotion that caught in his throat. 

Tim's smiling face stared back at him.

Dick shrunk back from the table, remembering way his little brother's limp body had felt in his arms only hours ago. McKinnley pressed on, sensing his weakness, “Tim Drake is dead,” he said, and the words hit Dick like a thunderbolt. He heaved dryly, chains rattling as he pulled on the restraints keeping his hands from his mouth. “You killed him, didn't you?”

Dick shook his head, but couldn't find the words to proclaim his innocence. Tim was dead. His little brother was dead, and it was his fault. He'd killed Tim Drake. “A... An accident,” he tried, but was cut off before he could say anymore.

“We have witnesses who put Nightwing at the scene of the crime,” McKinnley said, walking around the table to tower over Dick. “Witnesses who saw him push that sixteen-year-old boy off the roof. We know you told Tim to meet you over by the construction zone. We know that he went onto that roof of his own free will. And we know he didn't jump. Which really leaves only one explanation, doesn't it, Mr. Grayson?”

Dick had resigned himself to staring at his hands again. It was better than the manila envelope, with pictures of a boy who would never smile again; or the BPD officer standing next to him, smirking, probably glad to watch Dick's world crumble around him. He knew what was coming next, and he didn't fight it. He had no will to, after what he'd done to Tim. He deserved it.

“You're Nightwing, aren't you, Mr. Grayson?”

Dick took a shaky breath. “I am-”


	2. Unexpected Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shelly for Beta reading.
> 
> I still solemnly swear this will continue to be updated in a timely manner.

Tim strolled into the Bludhaven Police Department with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. He waved at Shirley at the front desk, and ignored the scowls and dirty looks from various officers as he made his way towards the back of the precinct, and Dick's desk. He'd come here enough times that the majority of the precinct recognized him as Dick Grayson's little brother, and since most of them didn't like Dick, he wasn't very high on their lists. He'd never understand how Dick could manage to work with people like this, but he did understand the necessity. Nightwing couldn't clean up the city streets so long as the police force was the worst of the corruption.

It was a concept that Tim understood, and it was the only thing that kept him from lashing out in retribution for each time Dick had been demeaned, humiliated, and attacked by his own coworkers- the people who should have been on his side. Besides, right now wasn't the time for anger, even justified anger. He'd come all this way to talk to Dick in person about a matter that almost certainly involved him, or would involve him soon enough. He'd tried to convince Bruce to come here and do this, but the man couldn't be budged. _Dick can take care of himself_ , he'd said; Tim thought that was just a cop out for having to be the one to initiate conversation when the last time the two had talked to each other it had ended in hard words and hurt feelings.

Sometimes he thought he was the only actual adult amongst them, and he was barely sixteen.

Tim paused at Dick's desk and bored a hole into the empty chair with his confused gaze. Dick was supposed to be here; he'd told Tim he had desk duty all day, and it was hardly four-o-clock. Tim glanced around the room, but his older brother was no where in sight.

“Front and center, Tim.”

Tim spun around as a woman spoke behind him. “Amy,” he smiled in greeting. He'd met Amy Rohrbach the last time he was here. She'd been nice enough, and Dick had always spoken of her in high regard.

“You looking for Dick?” She asked, the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. She jutted her hip against the side of the desk and crossed her arms. “He went home early. Practically proclaimed he was _dying_. If he's not sick, you better tell me so I can put him on radar duty for a week.”

Tim laughed and ran a hand through his hair nervously, “Oh man, I had no idea. I, um, kind of dropped by unannounced, probably should have called.”

Amy just huffed and smiled, “I expect you to tell me if he _isn’t_ sick. Obstruction of Justice is a crime, you know.”

Tim held his hand up in a swear, “Scout's honor.” He waited until Amy had left, and then pulled out his phone and punched in the number 3 to speed-dial Dick. 2 was Bruce. 1 was Jack. Tim had never been able to convince himself to remove 1 from his phone, even though calls there would never be answered again.

Dick's phone rang three times before he answered, which was one of their codes for being on the _night job_.

“Bludhaven's rooftop express, how can I help?”

Tim smiled despite himself. So Dick had ditched cop duty to play superhero. “Hey man, I heard you're sick.” Tim situated his posterior upon the corner of Dick's desk. There was a pause, “I'm, uh, sitting at your desk,” Tim explained, before Dick hurt himself trying to figure out how Tim had gotten a hold of that information.

“Oh!” the older exclaimed, “Yeah, sorry man. I'm practically dying here. They told you that, right? No lie, I thought I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, “Well I needed to talk to you, if I head over to your place-”

“Sure,” Dick cut him off, “Though I'm sort of busy right now. Not something we can talk about over the phone?”

“No,” Tim said quickly, “It's, uh, sorta, you know, personal.”

“Hear ya loud and clear,” Dick chimed back, “Tell you what, why don't you head over to the east side of town- where all that construction is. Pick me up some chicken soup from the old AM/PM and then you’ll have my undivided attention.”

“The construction zone?” Tim repeated, visualizing a map of Bludhaven in his mind's eye. “Yeah that's, uh... by Lighthouse Road, right?” Dick affirmed it with a grunt. “Sure,” Tim continued, “I'll grab you some cold medicine too.”

“Thanks,” Dick laughed, “See you soon.”

“See ya,” Tim said, hanging up. He glanced at his watch, four-thirty-five. He could make it there in 15 minutes if he drove fast. He shifted the bag on his shoulder, waved to Amy across the room, and took off.

~~~

As the boy left, Officer Richter nudged Officer Hicks in the arm and made a jerking motion with his head. A grin spread on his face. “What d'ya say, two birds with one stone?”

Hick's eyes followed Tim's departure through the station doors. He was hardened to crime over the years, but he was uncomfortable with the plan Richter had gotten them involved in, “I don’t know. Grayson is one thing. He's just a kid.”

Richter scowled, shifting his weight away from his friend in defiance of his counsel, “You're too soft.” He pulled out his phone and hit the redial button as he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah, this is Richter. We've got a slight change- no, no...” the man trailed off as the voice on the other end of the line grew louder, “... _What_? No, he's supposed to be _home_. I didn't lie- give me the chance to-”

Hicks watched his friend's face become more agitated and stressed. He had known this was a bad idea from the get-go, but Richter just hadn't been able to turn down an offer that involved two grand in cash and the chance to get Dick Grayson out of their hair permanently.

“He went home, he was sick,” Richter insisted, his voice a hiss. “I don't _know_ where he is now, but- I have something just as good. _Timothy Wayne_ just left the precinct. Yeah, I know where he's headed.” The line was silent for a moment, and then a cold smile curved the corners of Richter's lips. “How much cash are we talking?”


End file.
